e Fleming; but on the other hand, the latter could, by his
connections, bring about one of the finest acquisitions that any king
of France had ever made; namely, that of the domains of the house
of Burgundy, which the sovereigns of Europe were then coveting. The
marriage of the celebrated Marguerite depended on the people of Ghent
and the Flemings who surrounded her. The gold and the influence of
Cornelius could powerfully support the negotiations now begun by
Desquerdes, the general to whom Louis XI. had given the command of the
army encamped on the frontiers of Belgium. These two master-foxes were,
therefore, like two duellists, whose arms are paralyzed by chance.

So, whether it were that from that day the king's health failed and went
from bad to worse, or that Cornelius did assist in bringing into France
Marguerite of Burgundy--who arrived at Ambroise in July, 1438, to
marry the Dauphin to whom she was betrothed in the chapel of the
castle--certain it is that the king took no steps in the matter of the
hidden treasure; he levied no tribute from his silversmith, and the pair
remained in the cautious condition of an armed friendship. Happily for
Cornelius a rumor was spread about Tours that his sister was the
actual robber, and that she had been secretly put to death by Tristan.
Otherwise, if the true history had been known, the whole town would have
risen as one man to destroy the Malemaison before the king could have
taken measures to protect it.

But, although these historical conjectures have some foundation so
far as the inaction of Louis XI. is concerned, it is not so as regards
Cornelius Hoogworst. There was no inaction there. The silversmith spent
the first days which succeeded that fatal night in ceaseless occupation.
Like carnivorous animals confined in cages, he went and came, smelling
for gold in every corner of his house; he studied the cracks and
crevices, he sounded the walls, he besought the trees of the garden, the
foundations of the house, the roofs of the turrets, the earth and the
heavens, to give him back his treasure. Often he stood motionless for
hours, casting his eyes on all sides, plunging them into the void.
Striving for the miracles of ecstasy and the powers of sorcery, he
tried to see his riches through space and obstacles. He was constantly
absorbed in one overwhelming thought, consumed with a single desire that
burned his entrails, gnawed more cruelly still by the ever-increasing
agony